


the words don't mean a thing

by spellingbee



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blanket Permission, Blood and Injury, Love Confessions, M/M, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 16:09:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21102251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellingbee/pseuds/spellingbee
Summary: Delirious with pain after taking a bad hit in a firefight, Kobra confesses his love to Ghoul.His timing's never been that great.





	the words don't mean a thing

**Author's Note:**

> Week 42!
> 
> biiiiig thank you to my zucchini ace (funkobraofficial on tumblr) and my friend pink (pinkstationhero on tumblr) for beta reading this! they both really helped me make this as emotional as it could get. 💖💖💖
> 
> this was based on a prompt sent to me by none other than ace themself! enjoy some exciting funkobra love confessions! 😘

“Clear a table, clear a  _ fucking _ table! I’m not layin’ him on the goddamn  _ floor!” _

There's a huge clamor as Jet swipes a bunch of garbage onto the floor. “Here, lay ‘im down, I’ll grab the kit!”

Party and Ghoul manage to get Kobra laid out on the table, but that does little to halt Party’s terror and anxiety, especially when the Kid curls in on himself, moaning out in pain. 

“Jet!” Party cries, not looking away from their brother’s face, “hurry up with that kit!”

“Party--” Kobra bites out, quiet and strained, “‘M not gonna-- ‘m not gonna make it, ‘s fine, ‘s good, don’t--”

“Shut the hell up!” Party cuts him off, leaning in close and cupping their little brother’s face in their hands. “You’re fine, okay, ya just got hit a lil’, okay, you’re gonna be  _ fine _ . Jet, seriously, bring the fucking kit!”

A clatter as Jet sets the medical kit down on the table. “I’m here, shit-- hold ‘im still.”

Party lets go of Kobra’s face and waves Ghoul over. “Help me hold ‘im,” they say, fighting back the panic. “You hold that side, I’ll hold this side.”

“Don’t--’s not-- _ ’m not--!” _

“Kobra, shut  _ up, _ you’re gonna be fine!”

Ghoul drops into the seat opposite Party’s, raising himself onto his knees and pressing one hand on Kobra’s leg and the other on his arm. “Kobra, Kobes, ya gotta calm down,” he says, sounding way too goddamn calm for this situation. “Just relax, okay? Let Jet fix ya up.”

“Ghoul,” Kobra groans, rolling his neck to face him. 

Party’s holding him down too, watching in terrified fascination as Jet pushes Kobra’s shirt up and reveals the wound in his side. There’s blood pouring onto the table, and Party feels sick, because that’s  _ their brother’s blood! _

“Thank the witch,” Jet mutters, leaning in to wash the blood away. 

As soon as Jet applies that little bit of pressure to the wound, Kobra arches away, letting out a choked scream. The sound sends all of Party’s hair standing on end, and they feel themself break into a cold sweat, nausea washing over them. 

“Ghoul,” Kobra shouts, ripping his arm away from Party and jerking it through the air. “Ghoul, Ghoul,  _ Ghoul. _ ”

“Kobes, ‘m right here,” Ghoul lets go of Kobra’s leg and grabs his flailing hand in his own. “Kobra, ya gotta calm down so Jet can fix it!”

“Ghoul,” Kobra moans again. “Ghoul, seri’sly, ‘m not gonna--I never even got to--”

“Kobra, shut up, you’re gonna be  _ fine,” _ Party barely manages. Jet’s diligently cleaning the wound, reaching back into the kit for something else.

“Ghoul, ‘m sorry,” Kobra chokes. He rolls his head to face Ghoul again, but his eyes are wide, jittery. Party doesn’t even know if he can see where he is, if the pain’s making him delirious. 

“What the hell are you apologizin’ for, bastard?” Ghoul asks, rubbing Kobra’s hand. 

“Never got to  _ tell _ you,” Kobra says. “Now ‘m gonna die--”

“You’re not gonna fuckin’  _ die,” _ Party shouts, but Kobra keeps talking over them.

“--an’ I never got to tell ya I love you, an’ I’m so fuckin’ sorry, Ghoul, ‘m so sorry.”

Kobra’s fading fast, and Party can’t bring themself to care about  _ what _ he’s saying so much as  _ the fact that he’s about to fucking pass out. _

“Stay with me, fucker!” Party snaps, terrified. “Ghoul! Keep ‘im awake!” 

But Ghoul’s not paying attention to Party. He’s staring at Kobra, his eyes wide and his mouth slack. “What,” he says, quietly. Then, louder, he says, “What? Kobra, what the hell are you talkin’ about?! Fuck--you can’t just--damn it, Kobra,  _ wake up!” _

But Kobra’s fallen unconscious. Maybe it’s for the best; as long as he can’t feel the pain, it’s for the best, right?

\-----

When Kobra wakes up, he feels much better than he had when he’d passed out.

He’s warm and comfortable, not too hot or too cold, but just the right temperature. He opens his eyes to find that it’s light, but the clear sort of light that comes with the early morning. How long had he been asleep?

He doesn’t remember much from... yesterday? Whenever that was. He remembers a laser beam lancing through him, sending shocks of pain through his body. He remembers barely making it to the car, with an arm around Ghoul and Party each, remembers being carried into the diner and laid on a table, remembers lots of yelling, but... that’s it. 

He must have passed out sometime during the yelling, but he has no idea when.

Kobra carefully sits up, and is happy to find only a twinge of pain in his side. He puts all his weight on one arm and rolls his shirt up. There’s a clean, white bandage where the wound must be, with no blood or anything visible. He drops the hem of his shirt.

He’s just planted his feet on the floor and is working on mustering up the strength to stand when his bedroom door opens. He turns his head to find Ghoul standing in the doorway, a med kit dangling from one hand.

“Ghoul,” Kobra says, offering him a little smile. 

“Kobra,” Ghoul says, and there’s something in his voice, something in the way he’s looking at Kobra, that sets him on edge. “...You’re awake.”

“Yeah.” Kobra starts to rise, but his head sways at the motion, so he settles back down onto the bed. “Fuck. How long’ve I been out?”

“Two days.” Ghoul hovers in the doorway for just a moment longer, and then he seems to come to some decision, stepping into the room and walking over to Kobra’s bed with purpose. He sets the medkit down at the foot of the bed and then looks at him, arms folded over his chest, chin held high. 

His mouth is tilted down, his eyebrows pulled together in the way he always looks when he’s trying not to look nervous.

What the hell is Ghoul nervous about?

“Sorry,” Kobra says. “Shouldn’ta got hit, that was a dumb move.”

“Did you mean it?” Ghoul asks abruptly, his arms falling to hang at his sides, hands balled into fists. 

Kobra frowns. “Mean what?” he asks, because he seriously has no idea what Ghoul’s referring to. 

Ghoul’s fists tighten at his sides, and he clenches his jaw. “Do you remember what you said before you passed out?”

Kobra’s starting to get a bad feeling about this. He sucks in a breath, grimacing when the motion causes a flare of pain in his side. “No,” he says. “Fuck...what’d I say?” Something bad, apparently, because otherwise why the hell would Ghoul be looking at him like  _ that? _

“You told me you loved me,” Ghoul says, and Kobra feels the world around him freeze, and tilt, and suddenly everything’s different and worse and fuck, fuck,  _ fuck, _ Ghoul was never supposed to know how Kobra felt, he was never supposed to find out, because Ghoul could  _ never _ feel that way about Kobra!

“No,” Kobra says hurriedly, shaking his head and wincing at the pain in his side. “I--no, shit, sorry, it wasn’t--I mean, I musta been--y’know, delirious, or some shit, ‘cause, like, you’re my best friend, I wouldn’t--couldn’t--” 

Ghoul’s staring at him, something intense in his eyes, and Kobra has to look away, afraid he’ll give away the truth if he keeps looking at him. And, it hurts. It hurts to lie to Ghoul, to tell him that he doesn’t feel that way about him, but what else can he  _ do? _

“Bullshit,” comes Ghoul’s cold reply, spoken on a hiss. The tone of Ghoul’s voice surprises Kobra so much that he looks up sharply. 

Ghoul’s  _ glaring _ at him, his nostrils flared and his cheeks darkening, reddening with  _ anger. _

“Bull _ shit, _ ” Ghoul spits again, stepping forward and planting himself directly in front of Kobra. Kobra thinks his heart might leap out of his chest, it’s pounding so hard. “I know what I fuckin’ heard,” he continues, voice shaky. “You said you loved me; you said it with what you thought was your  _ dying goddamn breath. _ And now you’re gonna--now you’re gonna  _ lie _ to me?” Ghoul’s voice breaks on the word, and now Kobra’s heart comes to a sudden, abrupt halt.

Because Ghoul’s not just mad. Ghoul’s  _ hurt. _

And that’s the last fucking thing Kobra could  _ ever _ want, he actively tries to  _ keep _ Ghoul from getting hurt, both literally and figuratively, but what the hell, why--why is Ghoul  _ hurt _ by this?

“I,” Kobra starts, but Ghoul cuts him off.

“Don’t fuckin’ say  _ anything,” _ Ghoul says. “You’ll just lie again, won’t you? What the fuck, Kobes? You tell me you  _ love _ me and then fuckin’  _ pass out _ and then I had to wait  _ two goddamn days _ for you to wake up again, two  _ fucking _ days to be able to talk to you again and tell you how  _ I _ feel, and you fucking... you seriously fucking  _ lie _ to me?!” Ghoul’s breaths are coming faster, his shoulders rapidly rising and falling with each breath he takes. 

“You tell me you love me,” Ghoul says again, “you _ tell  _ me you  _ love  _ me _ , _ and then you don’t even fucking let me say it  _ back _ to you?!”

Kobra can’t breathe. Kobra can’t  _ fucking _ breathe, because what? What the hell? There’s no way that Ghoul could possibly feel the same way about him. No goddamn  _ way, _ because if he did--if he  _ did…! _

“You don’t,” Kobra chokes out, “you don’t have to say it just because  _ I _ said--I mean, I didn’t--it wasn’t--”

“You’re a bad fuckin’ liar, Kobra Kid,” Ghoul spits. “You think I’m stupid? Think I can’t tell the difference between you lyin’ and tellin’ the truth?” He sits down hard on the edge of Kobra’s bed, making the mattress bounce. Kobra barely registers the new pain shooting through his side, too focused on  _ Ghoul. _

“I don’t--” he starts, and stops. He can barely  _ think _ properly, his head swimming with pain and whatever meds they’ve shoved down his throat, his mind whirling with thoughts of  _ Ghoul _ and  _ confessions _ and  _ love he was never supposed to admit. _ “I don’t think you’re stupid,” he finishes.

Ghoul snorts, a forceful, angry sound. “Then fuckin’  _ act _ like it,” he says. He twists his torso, turning so he’s facing Kobra full-on. Kobra can’t figure out if he should look at him or look away. He settles for watching Ghoul’s hands, balled up on his thighs. “You didn’t even gimme a chance to  _ say _ anything before you fuckin’  _ passed out. _ And now you’re not lettin’ me say anythin’ because you--you--what? You changed your fuckin’ mind? Decided I wasn’t worth it, after all?”

“No!” Kobra bursts out, because Ghoul is worth  _ everything _ , “no, I, no. I didn’t--” and, well, embarrassment and rejection be damned, Kobra’s not gonna let Ghoul think Kobra thinks he’s  _ worthless. _ “I didn’t change my mind,” he quietly admits, eyes locked on Ghoul’s hands. 

“Then what?” Ghoul asks, his voice lowering to a quiet, seething sort of way. “Then why the hell are you tryin’ to tell me that--”

“I love you,” Kobra says, before he can stop himself. “I--fuck, Ghoul, I’ve loved you since--practically since we  _ met.” _

“What?” Ghoul’s hands flatten against his legs, and then his fingers tighten against the fabric. “You  _ what? _ Kobra, that was  _ three years ago. _ ”

“I know,” Kobra says miserably. He’s been keenly aware of the passage of time since falling in love with Ghoul. “I didn’t--I didn’t wanna say anything. Make things weird between us.”

“You didn’t wanna  _ make things weird between us.” _ Ghoul repeats, slowly. “Kobra, you--you  _ fucking... _ dumbass!” His hands fly up from his thighs and a moment later Kobra feels them settle heavily on his shoulders. “Would you just  _ look _ at me?!”

It takes more strength than Kobra’s willing to admit to lift his gaze and meet Ghoul’s eyes. He’s always thought Ghoul’s eyes were beautiful; dark brown, and always so full of whatever emotions he’s feeling. Right now, there’s  _ anger _ there, yes, and  _ hurt, _ but also... hope? Maybe?

“I feel the same way about you, you  _ idiot,” _ Ghoul says, and something in his eyes softens, just a smidge, just enough to make Kobra  _ hope _ , to make his breath catch in his throat. “I wanna do, like, sappy romantic shit with you. Okay? So just don’t... don’t fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”

“Got it,” Kobra says, feeling strangely short of breath. “Got it. I...fuck, Ghoul. ‘M so sorry. I love you. I love you so fucking  _ much, _ I-- I just...”

“Okay,” Ghoul says, and his lips are tugging upward now, his face shifting and  _ lighting up. _ “Okay, asshole, then fuckin’ prove it.”

“Prove--?” 

Ghoul cuts him off, lips crushing against his own.

Kissing Ghoul is nothing like he’d imagined, but it’s also  _ everything  _ he ever imagined. 

Ghoul is  _ not _ a good kisser, using far too much teeth and tongue than probably appropriate, but Kobra doesn’t  _ care, _ because Ghoul is  _ actually kissing him, _ pressing close and holding Kobra’s shoulders and  _ kissing him! _

And Kobra never wants to  _ stop _ kissing Ghoul, wants to stay here in this perfect moment forever, but then one of Ghoul’s hands slips from his shoulder and lands heavily on Kobra’s side, making Kobra pull back with a hiss as pain shoots through him.

“Fuck, sorry,” Ghoul says, breathless and with shining red lips.

Kobra gives him a smile, reaching up to cup Ghoul’s cheek and feeling stupid, but a  _ good _ , warm kind of stupid. “‘S fine,” he says. “Worth it. Definitely worth it.”

“Yeah, well, when you’re better I’m still gonna punch ya for puttin me through that. Bastard.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

\-----

When Party comes into Kobra’s room a little after noon to see if he needs anything, they’re only a little bit surprised to find Ghoul curled around their brother on the bed, the pair of them fast asleep.

It’s hot as hell, and the curtains hang open, illuminating the whole room and making it even  _ hotter, _ but Kobra and Ghoul both seem content, Ghoul’s face tucked into Kobra’s neck, Kobra’s arm wrapped loosely around Ghoul’s shoulders.

Party smiles to themself and shakes their head. Took these two long enough, that’s for damn sure. 

They move forward and tie the curtains shut, engulfing the room in darkness, and exit the room, closing the door with a soft  _ click. _

**Author's Note:**

> i'll never get over these idiot boys..........i love writing them and the endless (stupid) ways they end up together 💖💞💖
> 
> if you enjoyed this, feel free to leave kudos or a comment! i'd love to hear your thoughts!! ✨  
and if you'd like to request a fic or leave an anonymous comment, stop by my tumblr, @enby-partypoison my ask box is always open!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[PODFIC] the words don't mean a thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602826) by [spellingbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellingbee/pseuds/spellingbee)


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